


Smitten

by ellebeedarling



Series: Spectre Requisitions 2018 [3]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Budding Romance, F/M, First Date, First Kiss, Fluff, Paragon Shepard, SpecRecs2018, hand holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 21:51:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13645149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellebeedarling/pseuds/ellebeedarling
Summary: Shepard runs into an old acquaintance on Illium, and realizes the little crush he had on her two years ago hasn't gone anywhere.





	Smitten

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BlackjackKent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackjackKent/gifts).



> A treat for the SpectreRequesitions gift exchange. 
> 
> This is honestly nothing but pure, unadulterated fluff, complete with ice cream cones. Unbetaed so all mistakes are my own. It also fulfills several spaces on my Spec Rec Bingo card - Paragon Shepard, First Kiss, Hand Holding. (There's also a smidge of UST, but IDK if it's enough to count. lol)
> 
> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoy!

“Holy crap, Shepard?”

 

John looked up, heart catching in his throat and stomach fluttering in a way that he was sure he should have outgrown by now. He felt his cheeks go warm as he made his way towards the woman. 

 

“Commander Shepard?” she asked again when he was standing in front of her.

 

“One and the same.” 

 

“Gianna Parasini,” she said, offering her hand to shake. “Noveria Internal Affairs.” 

 

Taking her hand in his own, he felt that fluttery racing of his heart. Of course he remembered. How could he forget? He’d been impressed with her from the moment he’d laid eyes on her two years ago. Somehow, Williams had picked up on his little crush and had teased him relentlessly for days. 

 

A wave of melancholy washed over him as he thought about Ashley, and about Kaidan. Horizon still tasted like bitter ash in his mouth. Alenko had refused to believe him, refused to join him. Shepard was man enough to admit that it stung. 

 

“The news said you were dead,” Gianna said in wonderment, pulling him back into the here and now.

 

He realized he was still shaking her hand, but Gianna seemed so dazed by his presence that she hadn’t noticed or didn’t mind. Retracting his arm, he opened his mouth to answer her, but she waved off his reply and gestured for him to sit.

 

“Don’t tell me,” she went on after he’d taken a seat. “You’d probably just have to lie anyway. I’m guessing you were undercover.” 

 

“Something like that,” he muttered.

 

He attempted to interject into the conversation again, and again he was cut off. “Last time we met, I believe I promised you a beer.” 

 

Liara was waiting for him to come see her, but a beer sounded rather good at the moment. And Shepard would be lying if he said he didn’t want to spend a little more time with Gianna. He’d thought her pretty and intriguing when they’d met two years ago. It would be nice to have the chance to get to know her better. 

 

“Sounds great.” Once he had his drink in hand, he thanked her, taking a small sip and relishing the bitter flavor, the tickle of the cold bubbles as they slid down his throat. “So what brings you to Illium?” he asked, ignoring the butterflies in his stomach as Gianna watched him take another sip. 

 

“Looking into a possible weapons smuggler. We think she's been stealing plans for weapons and tech and selling them here on Illium. What about you?”

 

He rubbed the back of his neck with a hand, “Well, I-”

 

“Oh, gotta go,” she said quickly, pulling a piece of paper out of her purse and scribbling something on it. She slipped the note into his hand before darting away. 

 

“Well,” he sighed, finishing off his beer before reading the note. 

 

_ Target saw me. Had to leave before I blew my cover. Meet me at Eternity tonight, 1900, please. I may need your help with something. _

 

He couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t disappointed about her running off so quickly, but the prospect of meeting with her again later on gave him a certain thrill. He tried to temper it. Though the crew had been given a solar day of shore leave, there was still plenty for him to do. He was here to do a job, after all, not go on dinner dates. There was no denying the spring in his step as he went to meet Liara, however. 

 

**

 

Shepard was tired and hungry as he stepped into Eternity Lounge at the designated time. His meeting with Liara had turned into numerous little errands that had prevented him from taking any actual rest all day or even managing a bite to eat. Some shore leave. He hadn’t had a decent one since before he’d become a Commander years ago. 

 

He tried not to dwell on the past few years and the bizarre twists and turns his life had taken. Instead he focussed on scanning the crowd for Gianna. The woman waved to him from the back of the room, and he made his way over, ignoring the sudden fluttering of nerves, and took his seat across from the internal affairs agent. 

 

“Thanks for coming, Shepard,” she said sounding relieved. “I really owe you one.”

 

“Not a problem,” he said, picking up the drink menu. There were an impressive number of human cocktails on the list. His dad's favorite drink had been an Old Fashioned. A wave of nostalgia washed over him as he punched in the order. “So,” he looked at Parasini, who was watching him with a curious expression, “you said you needed my help with something?”

 

“Nothing life or death,” she assured him. “I was just hoping that maybe you could get the merchant to show you her top shelf stuff. If I can catch her trying to sell you the stolen merchandise, then I can close this case.”

 

“Will tomorrow work?” He took a sip of his drink, imagining his father in his favorite recliner, feet propped up after a hard day of working, and sipping on his own Old Fashioned cocktail. It was a small luxury he allowed himself each evening after dinner. Sometimes his mother would make herself a gin and tonic and the two lovebirds would sit out under the stars together while John Jr and his sisters cleaned the kitchen and finished their homework.

 

“Shepard? You okay?”

 

Her voice startled him, and he glanced up to meet her eyes, soft and brown and filled with concern. “Sorry,” he said. “Just... feeling a little nostalgic tonight, I guess. This was my dad's favorite drink. Haven't had one in years and years.” He took another sip.

 

“What's in it?” she asked, peering into the glass.

 

“Whiskey and sugar mostly,” he laughed. “There's a splash of bitters in there, too. Want to try it?”

 

“You wouldn't mind?”

 

“No.” He passed the glass to her, and she took a small drink.

 

“Wow, that's actually pretty good.”

 

A brief nod acknowledged her comment. “So, I'm sorry, I zoned out on you. Tomorrow?”

 

“Tomorrow would be great,” she said.

 

“Fine, I'm on shore leave for another,” he checked his chrono, “twenty one hours, but I can make time for a quick shopping trip.”

 

“Oh, I don't want to interrupt your shore leave, Commander. It can wait until you're back at work.”

 

“I can't promise I'd have time once shore leave is over,” he said. “I have a lot of work to do.” Draining his glass, he ordered another. Just one more couldn't hurt. After that, he positively had to have some food.

 

“Well now I feel like shit for asking you. If I'd known that you were going to spend your day off helping me, I'd have kept my mouth shut.”

 

Shepard chuckled. “It's not a problem. Honestly. I don't have any plans.”

 

“Really? Good looking guy like you? Figured you were the type to have one in every port!” Her grin let him know she was teasing, but he still blushed.

 

“Nah...” he laughed, “most women I meet are either off limits because they're military, intimidated by me, or too dumb to tie their own shoes. The cheap bimbo act just doesn't really do it for me,” he heard himself confessing, mentally cursing his running mouth. Why the hell was he volunteering so much information to this woman?

 

Evidently, his mouth wasn't done betraying him, though. “Been awhile since I met a woman who really piqued my interest.” Another drink of his cocktail occupied his mouth while Gianna laughed softly.

 

“So... how long are we talking?”

 

“Long enough that I'm embarrassed to tell you,” he said with a grin. “What about you? No boyfriend or husband that's going to come try to kick my ass for having a drink with you?”

 

“Like anyone could kick your ass,” she scoffed.

 

“Doesn't stop them from trying.” Her words reminded him that his back was to the door, and he tried to surreptitiously scan the crowd for threats.

 

She huffed a laugh then sighed, “No boyfriend. My work makes maintaining relationships difficult.”

 

“I can relate.”

 

“Well, aren't we just pathetic?” Her cocoa eyes twinkled at him.

 

Shepard raised his glass in toast. “That we are.” He felt lightheaded from lack of food after finishing the second drink. Dinner was definitely next on his agenda, although he found himself enjoying the company immensely. With a sigh, he asked, “So, I'll meet you on the trading floor tomorrow?”

 

“Yeah, yes, that... will be good,” she said, seeming just as disappointed as Shepard felt. “Have you had dinner?” she blurted.

 

“No I haven't.” He watched her expectantly, observant eyes not missing the flutter in her fingers as she toyed with her napkin or the visible way she swallowed.

 

“Neither have I,” she admitted managing to keep her voice even and strong despite her apparent nervousness.

 

Shepard smiled brightly and asked, “Would you like to do something about that together?”

 

“Very much,” she said softly.

 

**

 

“So mom comes home from work, and I'm lying on the ground underneath the ladder, and Camilla is stuck up on the roof while Gracie sits beside me crying her eyes out,” Shepard was saying. 

 

Gianna laughed hysterically as he relayed multiple stories about the childhood antics of the great Commander Shepard and his two little sisters. 

 

“I actually broke my shoulder when I fell,” he said, grin fading slightly. “Still gets stiff and gives me hell sometimes.” In proof of point, he rolled the shoulder in question.

 

Gianna dabbed her eyes and glanced around the room, laughter subsiding at last. “Looks like we've shut the place down.”

 

John looked around as well, realizing that they were the last two patrons in the restaurant. He glanced at his chrono. “Shit! They've been closed for an hour!”

 

They'd had dinner and dessert and split a bottle of red wine, and through it all, they'd talked as though they'd known each other their entire lives. He'd been enjoying himself so much that he didn't even realize that they were alone. A single server and the restaurant's manager were leaned against the bar in quiet conversation of their own, ignoring the couple. 

 

“Wow, I feel really bad,” he said.

 

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Hope those two didn't have plans.”

 

“Just let me settle the bill and we'll get out of here.”

 

“You don't have to do that, Shepard. I can pay for mine.”

 

“I want to,” he told her, and walked toward the server before she could respond. “I'm terribly sorry,” he told the two asari. “You should have said something.”

 

“It's no problem, Commander,” the manager informed him. “We're honored to have you here.”

 

Shepard rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed, and paid the bill, leaving the waitress an insanely large tip and signing an autograph for both of them. Gripping Gianna's elbow lightly, he led her out of the restaurant, toward her hotel. The sun had long since set, but the lights of the city drown out the stars in the sky. 

 

“You know what I love about space travel?” he mused, gazing up at the sky, and she hummed her curiosity. “You can always see the stars.”

 

“My apartment on Noveria has great views of the stars at night. It's always too cold to go outside.”

 

“God, how do you stand to live on that ice cube all the time? I  _ hate _ being cold!”

 

She laughed. “I'm not there all the time. It is my primary residence, but I visit my parents on Earth every chance I get.”

 

“Where do they live?”

 

“Bekasi, Indonesia,” she told him. “It's near Jakarta. My dad's family is from there.”

 

“My folks were both from Vancouver,” Shepard said. “Mom was a botanist, and dad had a degree in bioengineering. They both worked in colony development, but we had the farm, too.”

 

“Sounds like you and your family were close.”

 

“Ah, I'm probably romanticizing things. I was young when they all died. Felt guilty for years and years. Like it would have been better if I'd died with them, or something. Me and my old man had our share of fights, though. Probably because I was a hot head who thought he knew every damn thing,” he chuckled.

 

“What about your sisters?”

 

“You have siblings?” he answered with a question of his own.

 

“Just one brother. He's four years younger than me. His name is Giovani. Ma thought it would be cute if our names were similar. That just means I get called Giovani and he gets called Gianna more often than not.”

 

He laughed. “You close?”

 

“Sometimes,” she admitted with a grin.

 

“Well, that's how I was with my sisters, too. Camille was only a year younger than me, and Gracie a year younger than her. They drove me up the damn wall half the time.”

 

“Still, it must be hard being without them.”

 

“Yeah... yeah, it is.” 

 

They came to a stop in front of her hotel, and Shepard stood with his hands in his pockets, bouncing on the balls of his feet slightly, like he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do next. Finally, he looked at her and smiled. “I had a really amazing time tonight,” he said.

 

“So did I.”

 

“So, I'll see you tomorrow. Around what time?”

 

“Ten?”

 

“Perfect. Good night, Gianna.”

 

“Ah, what the hell,” she leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. “Good night, Shepard.”

 

He watched her walk into the building with a doofy smile on his face before strolling back to the ship.

 

“Joker,” Shepard said in exasperation when he stepped onto the bridge. “You're off duty, remember? You're supposed to be relaxing and doing fun things... away from the ship.”

 

The pilot turned to face Shepard opening his mouth to reply with a wise-ass comment no doubt, but stopped, staring at the Commander's face. “Is that... lipstick on your cheek?”

 

John's hand flew up to where Gianna had kissed him, and he mentally kicked himself, knowing he'd just given himself away. Dammit! He rubbed at the spot, hoping that was where the lipstick actually was. “Go to bed, Joker,” he said in lieu of responding to the man. “And make sure you leave the ship tomorrow.”

 

As soon as he reached the elevator, he heard Joker shouting, “Hey Garrus! Shepard just came through here with lipstick on his cheek! What do you make of that?” Luckily the lift carried him to the safety of his cabin before the turian could get to him. 

 

**

 

His uniform was a more professional choice of clothing than his civvies, though he loathed the black and yellow insignia that adorned it. Hopefully it would only take them a few more weeks to finish this mission. He was ready to be an Alliance marine again instead of a traitor and a disgrace to his uniform.

 

Gianna sent a message to his omni-tool that she was in position, and he stood near the kiosk, casually perusing his messages while waiting for the merchant to be free. It didn't take him long to get her to show him what Gianna was looking for. 

 

_ The old Shepard charm _ his dad had called it. It had served him well during his career, and with more than one woman, if he were being honest. Though he liked to think those days were behind him. He'd had his share of lovers, sure, but now he longed for something more. It seemed there was always one more task, one more mission, to complete first, though. His love life had been put on the back burner for so long, it felt odd to even be contemplating it.

 

Once the smuggler had been dealt with, Gianna came to speak with him. “Can I buy you lunch?” she asked. “It's the least I can do for taking up your day off. I doubt you get many of those.”

 

“I'd like that,” he said, with a brilliant smile. “But I'm buying.”

 

“I invited you, Commander. I'm buying,” she said. “And I'm not taking no for an answer.”

 

“Yes, ma'am,” he chuckled. 

 

They managed to find a pizza place and argued amicably over whether or not to get pineapple on their pizza. Shepard didn't want it; Gianna was adamant that they have it. In the end, they got it only on half.

 

“How can you not like pineapple?”

 

“I like pineapple, just not on pizza. Fruit doesn't belong on anything but dessert.” He grinned at her over the rim of his glass of beer.

 

“What about pork roast with stewed apples?”

 

“Nope.”

 

She looked scandalized. “That's one of my favorite meals!”

 

“Sorry! Fruit and meat are particularly revolting to me.”

 

“How can you even afford to be picky? Don't you just have to eat what you're given in the military.”

 

“Yeah, but it all tastes exactly the same,” he laughed. “Like flavorless mush.”

 

“Oh, gross! I could never have been in the military.”

 

“You get used to it. I will say this – I prefer MRE's to the slop that our mess sergeant slings out most days.” He pulled a face that had her giggling. “I even spent five hundred credits – of my  _ own _ money, mind you – on a list of ingredients that he promised would improve the quality of meals for the whole crew, and still the best thing he can make is ramen. Hell,  _ I _ could make ramen taste good.”

 

“Not a cook then?” Her cheeks were burning from laughing and smiling so much.

 

“Not at all. I could probably impress you with my take out ordering skills, though.” He waggled his eyebrows at her, sending her into another fit of giggling. “What about you? Do you cook?”

 

“A little. My mom is an exceptional cook, but I was always too busy running around outdoors, catching frogs and stuff with my brother to learn. I don't starve, though, and I can prepare something more impressive than  _ ramen _ !”

 

“Once, on the first  _ Normandy _ , I was so hungry but nothing sounded good. I decided to try my hand at making a grilled cheese sandwich, and ended up setting off the fire suppression system. The crew told me I wasn't allowed in the galley after that, and I was relegated to ration bars and pb&js. I did make one of the girls in navigation feel so sorry for me that she offered to make me a grilled cheese whenever I wanted it. I confess that I shamelessly took advantage of it.”

 

“God, my stomach is hurting from laughing so much,” she gasped through her tears. “You're terrible!”

 

“Starving men stoop to devious levels,” he informed her, moving their glasses out of the way as the waitress brought their pizza. He served her a slice with pineapples, then took one without for himself. “Speaking of which, I'm not above picking the pineapples off your half if you don't eat quickly. I'm famished!”

 

“You do seem to eat an awful lot,” she teased. “It's a wonder you can stay so... trim.”

 

His eyebrow rose at that, then he held up his hand and let his biotics flare, bathing the appendage in blue flame. “Quick metabolism. It burns off the calories rather rapidly. Plus... I'm never idle.”

 

“So I would imagine,” she said, staring in wonder at his glowing hand. “Does it hurt?”

 

“If I throw it at you, yes, but not like this.” He moved his hand in her direction, and she reached for him, fingers curling away from the light briefly before she found the nerve to actually touch his hand.

 

“It tingles.” She was a little breathless and cleared her throat in embarrassment.

 

“It does.” His own voice was slightly breathless as he watched her. 

 

Her eyes snapped to his, and he let the flare fizzle away, smiling at her, as their fingers brushed against each other, still buzzing with the remnants of the dark energy. He was the first one to look away, pulling his hand back into his lap.

 

**

 

“How long are you going to be here?” he asked as they walked slowly down the street after lunch. They were moving in the opposite direction of her hotel, but neither of them seemed to particularly care about that. 

 

Shepard couldn't remember the last time he'd enjoyed someone's company so much, and the feeling seemed to be mutual. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and found her watching him. They both looked away, grinning shyly. It was so silly and childish, but it felt so good.

 

“Well, I could leave when I want,” she said. “I need to report back to Noveria in a week or so, but for now, the paperwork and reports involving the case will keep me busy enough to say I'm still working.”

 

“Ooh... mission reports. My favorite,” he said sarcastically, earning another laugh from her.

 

“I'd hate to think about the reports you have to write,” she said more seriously.

 

“One for the Council. One for the Alliance,” he stopped himself. He was still sending reports to the Alliance, though he was working for Cerberus. They probably knew it already, but he wasn't about to stop now. “Well, Cerberus,” he said, looking away.

 

“Do you mind me asking how you ended up working for Cerberus?”

 

Shepard stopped walking and looked at her, blue eyes intense enough to make her shiver. “Does it bother you?” he asked after a long pause.

 

“I don't really know anything about them, to be honest. It just seems... strange. I mean, you were the Alliance's golden boy.”

 

“Would you be offended if I didn't want to talk about this right now?”

 

“Not at all, Shepard. I don't want to make you uncomfortable.”

 

“John,” he said.

 

“Pardon?”

 

“John. My name is John,” he told her. “And it's not that I don't want to tell you, it's just... I don't want to tell you  _ yet. _ ”

 

“Fair enough... John.”

 

He smiled at her, full lips turning up at the corners, sapphire eyes sparkling. “Even my closest friends refuse to call me John.” A hand came up to touch her face, calloused fingertips tracing the curve of her cheek.

 

“Do you like ice cream?” Gianna asked, all smiles and innocence.

 

John laughed at her childlike expression. “As a matter of fact, I do.” 

 

They took their ice cream cones to a park that she knew of and sat on a bench overlooking a fountain. Their easy banter returned, and before he knew it, hours had passed and his omni-tool was signaling that shore leave was coming to a close. Remembering that he'd promised to help Miranda with her with her sister that evening, he frowned at the machine on his wrist.

 

“Something wrong?”

 

“Time's up,” he said with a sigh. “I have a mission this evening - helping one of my crew with something personal - then two new people to recruit tomorrow.”

 

“Then you have to leave?”

 

His blue eyes met her deep brown, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd wanted so badly not to have to go to work and do what was expected of him. “Yeah,” he said at last, and she reached over to take his hand in hers, lacing their fingers together.

 

“Do you think we could see each other again?”

 

“I'd really like to,” he told her. “I just... don't know when.”

 

“You could call me tonight,” she suggested.

 

“I could,” he said. “This thing I have to do should only take a couple hours, so... double that, because that's the story of my damn life. Maybe we could meet for a late dinner or...”

 

“What about a movie?”

 

“Sounds good. You pick. I'll call you.”

 

She leaned over to kiss his cheek again, and before she could pull away, he brushed his lips against hers, sweet and slightly sticky from the ice cream. “See you in a bit,” he whispered, and all she could do was nod.

 

**

 

Gianna met him in the hotel lobby, chestnut hair cascading around her shoulders. Shepard appreciated the way it softened her features. He grinned when he noticed her Blasto hoodie. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his jeans, and he held his elbow out for her to loop her arm through. 

 

“Blasto, huh?” he asked as they strolled through the business district, arm in arm. 

 

She laughed. “I know it's so ridiculous, but I just love them all so much. My brother got me this for my birthday last year. Do you like Blasto?”

 

“Never seen one,” he confessed. “Uh... there was no such thing as Blasto before...” His voice trailed off, and she simply nodded as if she understood perfectly what he was going to say. She still thought he'd spent two years undercover and defected to Cerberus, and suddenly it felt very important for her to know the truth. The timing was wrong though, and it wasn't something he could simply blurt out.  _ Oh hey, by the way, I really was dead for two years, and now I'm like half machine and employed by terrorists. _ It just didn't sound right. He would wait.

 

_ Blasto: the Jellyfish Stings _ was every bit as terrible as he thought it would be, but he enjoyed it immensely. Or maybe that was just the company. Halfway through the movie, he nearly dozed off until a handful of popcorn hit him in the face. Turning his head, he saw Gianna trying to feign innocence while pretending to watch the movie. He fought back with a handful of his own, covering his mouth with a hand to stifle a laugh when it went down her shirt and lodged in her bra so that she had to dig it out in order to be comfortable.

 

“Nice shot, Commander,” she leaned over and whispered.

 

“It's rare that I miss my target,” he replied directly into her ear, and even in the darkened theater, he could see the heat in her eyes when she looked up at him. Sliding an arm around her shoulder, he pulled her close, and she rested her head against him for the remainder of the movie.

 

“So, you're recruiting for your mission, tomorrow,” Gianna said as they meandered hand in hand toward her hotel.

 

“Yep, then it’s back out there. Off to the next planet.” 

 

“Which is?” 

 

“I’m not sure yet. The honest truth is that I have reports and intel that I’m supposed to be going over tonight, as well as a dossier on another potential team member.”

 

“Instead, you’re wasting time with me.” 

 

“Enjoying time with you,” he corrected, smiling when she laughed. “I can’t be all work all the time.” 

 

“Makes John a very dull boy,” she quipped.

 

“Something like that.” 

 

“So, what is this mission?” she asked, tucking her bottom lip between her teeth as she waited for him to respond. 

 

Shepard took a moment to look at her. They’d been on a couple dates now, and he was having a marvelous time. Gianna didn’t seem to have any ulterior motives outside simple curiosity, but she was, for all intents and purposes, a professional snoop. It was her job to ferret out secrets as she built a case against whomever her target was. 

 

Still, his mission wasn’t necessarily a secret. At least he didn’t believe it should be. The public should be aware that someone was doing  _ something _ about the Collector threat, and if Gianna was secretly working for the Alliance, it could only help his case down the road for them to know the truth. 

 

Somehow he felt he could trust her with that. 

 

“Can we sit somewhere? Somewhere we won't be overheard?”

 

“Well, we could go to my room,” she suggested nervously.

 

“Uh...”

 

“We don't have to,” she added quickly.

 

“Gianna,” Shepard stepped close to her, cupping a cheek with one hand. “I don't want to make you uncomfortable. I've had so much fun with you, and I'd like us to continue seeing each other. I just want to talk, promise.” He offered her a reassuring smile.

 

She nodded. “Come upstairs, then. We can talk there.”

 

Her room was designed for an extended stay, more like a mini apartment than a hotel room. Shepard sank onto the couch waiting for her to sit down beside him. His stomach was twisted in knots, and he was questioning whether the timing was right to have this conversation. He'd only known her a couple of days after all. Well, if one wanted to get technical, they could argue that they'd known each other for years, but still. He liked her more than he probably should for someone he'd known so briefly. He didn't want to scare her off yet.

 

“You okay? You look a little pale.”

 

“I don't know why this is so weird to talk about with you, but I think it will make it easier if I just say it all at once, so,” he drew a deep breath, “here goes... I did die, Gianna. I was killed in the attack on the  _ Normandy _ a couple years ago. A race called the Collectors was behind it, and they planned to give my body to the reapers. To do what with, I have no idea, but my friend, Liara, found me and gave me to Cerberus, because they said they could resurrect me. And they did. I was in a coma for two years while they put me back together, and when I woke up, they asked me to investigate the colony abductions. Have you heard about that?”

 

Gianna nodded solemnly, and John continued, “The Collectors are behind that as well. I went to the Alliance, but since I'd been declared killed in action, I would have had to undergo months of tests and psych evaluations. Councilor Anderson told me it would just be better for me to work with Cerberus for the time being, and come back to the Alliance once the Collectors are dealt with.”

 

An uncomfortable silence settled over them as Gianna stared at her fingers, and Shepard looked anywhere but at her. “I need a drink,” she said at last. “Want one?”

 

“Sure.” He felt dejected in a way he couldn't find a reason for. It wasn't as if she'd rejected him after hearing that he was virtually a zombie, but it seemed like she was on the verge of it.

 

“So, yeah, that's a little weird,” she said once they'd both taken a drink. “But, I mean... all that was out of your control, right? How did they bring you back, anyway?”

 

“Cybernetics and transplants, mostly,” he said. “I'm still mostly me, just maybe a few extra bits and pieces. About forty percent of my bone structure is titanium alloy, which actually comes in pretty handy in a fight.”

 

“I'll bet,” she chuckled. “So, you were afraid I'd run shrieking into the night if I learned the truth?”

 

“Maybe a little.”

 

“I guess I can understand that fear. Your friends haven't taken it well, I suppose?”

 

“Not particularly, no.”

 

“I'm sorry,” she said, resting a hand on his knee. “Tell me why you're ashamed to be working for Cerberus?”

 

“Am I that transparent?”

 

Gianna shrugged.

 

Shepard sighed. “They're little more than xenophobic terrorists,” he admitted. “During the hunt for Saren, I wiped out countless Cerberus cells. They were doing some pretty terrible things. Still are in some places, I suppose. But they're the only group willing to give me the resources I need to stop this threat. How can I ignore that?”

 

“The Alliance? The Council? Neither are willing to help you?”

 

He shook his head. “I went to them first, before I started recruiting for the mission. They both said no. I just want to finish this, and give the Illusive Man the middle finger and get on with my life,” he told her, covering her hand on his knee with his own. His calloused fingers rubbed little circles on the back of her hand. “I don't like this at all,” he said. “It's not who I am. Not the person I want to be.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Compromising my morals for the sake of the mission. That's not me. I'm not that guy. I do things the hard way to  _ avoid _ collateral damage, though to hear Westerlund News tell it, I'm a walking scourge of destruction.”

 

“You're good at what you do, and accomplish things no one else can. That makes you a target for the media. They'll use every shred of evidence they can find to make you look bad, that doesn't mean that you  _ are _ bad or that the people believe it. To the folks that matter, you're a hero. So, you'll do what you have to, and then once your mission is complete, you'll stick it to Cerberus and go back to the Alliance.”

 

“You make it sound so simple,” he grinned for a moment, small and sad, before turning serious again. “I wish it could be. This mission... we're going to the Collector homeworld. Beyond the Omega-4 relay. No ship has ever returned.” He watched her eyes as the reality of what that meant sank in.

 

“A suicide mission,” she said flatly. “Doesn't that just figure?”

 

“What's that?”

 

“I mean... I finally meet a guy who's nice and funny and really, really hot, and I'm guessing really good in bed – and damn do I hope I get to find out some day – and understands the time constraints of my job, and you're going on a fucking suicide mission after just having returned from the dead.”

 

Shepard burst out laughing and slung an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close and settling back on the couch. She snuggled down into his embrace, letting him plant a kiss on top of her head. “Maybe you will get to find out,” he murmured. “Some day.”

 

**

 

The  _ Normandy’s _ time on Illium was coming to a close. Shepard had fulfilled all his business obligations on the planet, and knew in his heart that he should have left immediately after recruiting Thane and Samara. He couldn’t bring himself to go without seeing Gianna one more time, though. 

 

When he’d called, Gianna had offered to cook him dinner, and Shepard had happily agreed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a home cooked meal. He stopped to pick up a bottle of wine on the way. 

 

When the door opened, she was wearing jeans, a light blue blouse, and an apron, hair in a loose braid that fell over her shoulder. His mouth watered at the smell of whatever was cooking from deeper within the apartment, but he couldn't take his eyes off her.

 

Gianna tipped up on her toes to press her lips to his briefly, but Shepard stopped her from pulling away with a hand splayed in the center of her back. Blue eyes shone brightly as he peered into her chestnut ones. A lopsided grin quirked his lips before he kissed her again. A tiny moan escaped her, and he enveloped her in strong arms. Gianna darted her tongue out, and Shepard let her press her advantage, planting one hand in her thick brunette hair.

 

When they came up for air, Gianna looked slightly stupefied, and John's eyes stayed on her swollen, pink lips. He captured them again, tugging gently on her hair to force her to tip her chin up to him, deepening the kiss. She tasted minty and smelled of flowers and whatever herbs she'd used to cook with, and John felt like he could absolutely devour her at the moment. It had been so very long since he'd done so much as kiss a woman, he was almost afraid he'd forgotten how. If her dilated pupils and quiet whimpers were anything to go by, he hadn't lost his touch.

 

He smiled at her, planting a sweet kiss on her lips before stepping back and letting her lead him into the room. She stopped halfway to the kitchen and turned to face him. “Could we just... do that again?”

 

With a laugh, he pulled her back into his arms and kissed her once more, deep and long and languid, while his large, rough hands roamed up and down her back. Her tiny hands clung to him for dear life, like she was afraid that letting go would cause the dream to end. Shepard could certainly relate.

 

“We should probably,” she gestured toward the kitchen, “yeah.” She wobbled slightly as she headed toward the stove where dinner was waiting.

 

“Can I help with anything?” Shepard asked, grinning like an idiot.

 

“You've done enough,” she said, shooing him out of her way and directing him toward the table. It was set with pretty dishes and candles. He opened the wine he’d brought and poured them each a glass while she brought the food to the table.

 

“So, I played a trick on you,” she confessed, grinning at his quirked eyebrow. “Lemon picatta chicken to prove to you that fruit  _ does _ go with meat!”

 

“Oh, lemon doesn't count as a fruit, come on!”

 

“Lemon is most assuredly a fruit,” she said.

 

“You know what I mean,” he huffed. “Lemons and limes aren't sweet like other fruits. They get a pass on my no meat and fruit rule.”

 

“You're really cute, you know?”

 

“So are you.”

 

Gianna set the platter of chicken down and leaned up to kiss him. “I like doing that,” she said, breathless.

 

“Me, too.” Their lips met again, slow and sensuous, his hand cupped around the back of her neck, thumb stroking lightly up her jaw.

 

“Hungry?” She asked when they stopped. Her eyes were closed as she tried to regain her composure, lips still close enough to brush his when she spoke.

 

“Very.” His voice sounded strained, and she opened her eyes to see the dark lust reflected back at her. He smiled at her, though, soft and warm, like he was willing to wait all the time in the world. “Let's eat before it gets cold.” 

 

**

 

As their evening wound down, Shepard found himself more and more reluctant to leave. He could honestly say he was smitten with Gianna Parasini. 

 

Thanking her for dinner, he brought their lips together tenderly. “I’ve had an amazing time with you these last few days,” he whispered.

 

“Me, too.” 

 

“We could write each other,” he said, suddenly feeling shy. “You know. Keep in touch. If you want to, I mean.” 

 

“If I want to, he says!” She laughed and rolled her eyes. “I definitely want to.” 

 

She kissed him again, deepening the connection, and John felt his body responding to hers. Not wanting her to think him a creep, he pulled away, grinning at the dazed look in her eyes. It was rather nice to know she was just as affected as he was. 

 

“Sounds good,” he said. “And when this is over, I definitely want to see you again.” 

 

“I’ll be looking forward to it.” 

 


End file.
